A Hole in the World

The things that seem so big in our lives really aren't. The things that stress us out and breed ulcers within us, that pour concrete into our heads and jackhammer the Hell out of us, the things that we lose frakin' sleep over... those aren't the things that matter.

They are... but not the way I paint them. Not the way I let them consume my life. Because every so often we're reminded about what IS important. Something happens and we see it. Clarity washes over us. Like a cold shower. Usually in our darkest hour. And how quickly it can go from being a beautiful day to something else entirely.

A kick to the stomach. Haven't felt it in a long time. I'd let myself almost forget. This morning wasn't a full blown kick—but it was... painful. Surprisingly so. And why shouldn't it be? A bad thing happened. I won't elaborate too much because I was asked not to, out of respect.

For the record I am fine. Repeat: F I N E. Fine. Still have a cold, but don't worry about me. My family is fine. My closest friends are well and good. But someone that none of you know isn't fine. Someone that none of you know... isn't. Just isn't. I knew this person. Not well enough. Like an almost-friend. And that's my own fault. Didn't know them well enough, but just enough to see that now there's a hole in the world where there wasn't before.

My desk is cluttered. And I know there's a billion things happening at work and in the outside world that need tended to, that need my attention. But why? Right now, this little microcosm I'm in is suffering. The people around me are searching for strength because they're hurting. Some more than others. Some less. And I hear a truck outside. Some guy at work, no doubt. Cars on the street. Birds in the trees. Phones ringing down the hall. Tragic though this event may be, it didn't stop the planets turning. And I think that upsets me just as much as the event. Our little world stopped... and everything else out there seems fine when it isn't. Yeah, everything jolted to a halt about an hour ago, but it'll start up again. And we'll cope. And I'm all for that... for healing.

But not forgetting again. Not taking it all for granted—letting the wrong priorities take hold and missing out on things so grand and so lovely; like friends and family. I am reminded today of how much those closest to me truly mean to me. And I begin to wonder how to make sure I make the time for them while I have them.

Hug someone. Preferably someone who is on your normal hugging roster. Smile at a friend. Call up a buddy. Have lunch with a coworker. Don't take it for granted that those moments to be with loved ones will last or that you'll find the time to get know that person you've always wanted to be friends with.

Because there are days like today where the sun shines bright and you achieve clarity, only too late.

To my almost-friend who left us this day without warning, I'll miss you.